Torushina
by Cyn V
Summary: I was once told that each person would only ever have one great love in a lifetime. This was mine. - Movie fic.
1. First Vision

**TORUSHINA  
A_ Vision of Escaflowne - A Girl In Gaea_ fanfiction**

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_**Notes:**  
This fanfiction picks up where the movie left off and centers around Celena and the surviving Dragonslayers. Expect Celena/Dilandau goodness ahead! Special thanks in this chapter to Hiwatari-Angel-15 and sesshouluver for the beta. Enjoy!_

_**Disclaimer:**  
_Vision of Escaflowne_ is not mine. This piece, its plot and OCs, however, are._

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**01: First Vision**

_I once heard that each person would only ever have one great love in a lifetime. People aren't particularly good for the Gods to grant us more than that and, even so, it's proof of the Great Creators' mercy and kindness that they extend this gift to all who live under the sun and moons._

_I can attest to the truth in these words, for I have experienced it first-hand._

_It happened decades ago, when I was still a young woman on the verge of adulthood and trying to survive in the aftermath of the war that nearly destroyed Gaea. My brother, the leader of one of the factions, the Abaharaki, had sent me away to stay with some old family acquaintances in a remote little village. It was far away from the dangers of war, but also removed from everything and everyone I knew and loved._

_It was a peaceful afternoon, not long after the Black Dragon Clan had been officially defeated, when four weary riders found their way into that old, rickety town..._

**o**

The unnamed village had been a stage of war only months prior. The Black Dragon Army had shattered its peaceful existence, coming in with their ships and tanks, as brutal and inevitable as a tsunami sweeping the plains. The people had had no warning. Then, after the damage was done, the Black Dragon had suddenly left, driven away by the utter poverty of the place, and the inhabitants had been left to live through the destruction. Cracked buildings lined each side of the litter-strewn streets as if they had been there for millennia. Their fronts were yellowed and dangerously tilted forward, like they had weathered many a sand storm but had finally met the limits of their resilience.

The after-effects of the war could also be felt on the people. The men gave the mounted party a wide berth for passage, regarding them and their swords with distrust. Women kept their heads lowered and a protective arm around their younglings' shoulders to stave off their enthusiasm at the rare sight of horses and any impulse they might have had to run over to the strangers. Most of them were not native to these parts, but refugees from other countries who had tried to escape the war by hiding in this Gods-forsaken place. The fear that these newcomers would bring unwanted trouble into their already difficult lives was a lingering presence.

The travellers' mounts were reeking of stale sweat and grime by the time their masters led them into a stable. Displaced families had made a home for themselves there, making use of any and all spots of relative shelter they could find and benefiting from the palfrenier's lack of business. The travellers paid them little attention as they dismounted, even when a small group of hopeful children came over to ask for some food or water, staring at their possessions with wonder.

The sounds of a commotion on the street were suddenly heard through the termite-infested walls. Voices were being raised and shouts cut through the general noise. Three of the travellers inside paused and shared a meaningful look. Dreading what might follow, they turned to their leader, who was calmly relieving his horse of saddle and provisions, and waited to hear if there would be any change in plans.

"Chesta, are you still sure about what you said before we came here?" the leader asked without turning from his work, having sensed his companions' silence behind him.

The addressed young man – a short blond with an outdated bowl-like hair cut that did little to hide the strange symbol tattooed on his forehead – let his shoulders sag and lowered his head. His straight hair fell forward to hide his face, but any one of his friends had seen him perform the very same action enough times to know exactly what was happening behind the fair tresses.

Chesta was a seer, which meant that the gods had gifted him with special psychic powers. What exactly those powers entailed, no one but the seer himself – and possibly their leader – knew, for the others had never dared to voice that question. It was a subject that made them nervous, no matter how close they were. Chesta was also the youngest of their group by a few years, however that did not lessen his companions' respect towards him. If anything, it counter-balanced their natural fear of the unknown and made them more protective of him than they normally would have been to someone in his position – or maybe, that was just a reaction to his soft temperament.

Each time their friend entered a state of trance to make use of his abilities, as he was doing at the moment, the group held their breath, unwilling to disturb the supernatural spectacle due to a mixture of trepidation, superstition and curiosity as to what the little blond's powers would reveal this time.

Chesta trembled as if he were at the top of a snow-covered mountain. His breath hitched and, with what looked like a tremendous effort, he gasped out:

"I see peace... their minds are clear... no one recognises us... Lord Dilandau..."

"Good. I would hate to go through Chatal all over again," he laughed, dismissing the true depth of what had just transpired and turning to lend Chesta a supporting shoulder. The boy was always exhausted after Seeing anything. "Well, what are you two waiting for? Get our things. We're going to look for somewhere where we can rest."

"Yes, Lord Dilandau!" The remaining two chorused and gladly followed their companions out of the shack-building. They were imagining what it would be like to sleep again on beds with nice, clean sheets after weeks on the road. They did not even mind carrying the two extra packs.

After leaving the horses behind in the hands of hired caretakers, they were finally able to see what all the agitation in the street had been about. A caravan full of provisions had just arrived, and most of the townspeople were helping to unload and hand out the medical supplies, food and basic necessities for the refugee camps that were based on the outskirts of town.

"What a mess," Dilandau commented, voice laced with disdain.

"There are so many of them..." Gatti said, in reference to the amount of dislocated families to whom the goods were being distributed. "I never imagined..."

"Yeah, wonder how they can all fit in this tiny little hell-hole," Ryuon remarked, looking on all the activity with distaste. "By the Goddess' pearls, I cannot wait till we get back to civilization!"

"Better get used to it, buddy," Gatti countered, Ryuon's reaction not surprising him in the least. After all, his purple-haired friend had been born and bred amongst the finesse of some conquered country's aristocracy. He had never bothered to learn the name since it just fell under the designation of "the Empire" anyway. "By the look of things, we might have to spend quite some more time roaming these out-of-the-way towns."

"Ack, Gatti, shut up! Don't jinx it! Our luck's bad enough as it is... Lord Dilandau, we are leaving in the morning, right?" asked the Slayer hopefully.

"I haven't decided yet. I want to see how we're treated here first. We'll probably stay for a few days, if the food and beds are good."

At this point, a little kid running after his dog bumped into Ryuon and almost sent him and his bags tumbling onto the dirt. Luckily for him, Gatti was behind him to steady him, so it was the sandy-haired Slayer who lost his balance instead.

"Aw, man, he touched me! I bet he passed me all kinds of stupid diseases," the purple-haired ex-soldier grumbled, dropping his bags so he could dust himself off. "Please, Lord Dilandau, after we eat, can we leave? Even sleeping on the road beats this!"

Dilandau's eye twitched in preparation for a heated reply – his Slayer almost appeared to be coming out of his way to incense his travel-worn patience – but it was Chesta who delicately answered.

"Ryuon, we've been riding for at least a week now. The horses are so tired they cannot go any further and, honestly, neither can I. Besides, Gatti is right. With everything that's happening at Torushina, we should stay out of sight for a while longer, which is why we've been avoiding all the big cities."

"Fine..."

Ryuon tried making peace with his luck, but Chesta noticed the bulge on each of his cheeks that meant he was gritting his teeth and gave him an encouraging smile. Gatti had apparently tuned out the conversation right after his trip to the ground and was instead absorbed in gazing round at the troubled faces of the refugees.

As the leader, Dilandau was trying to look over everyone's heads, scouting for the inn or any place that looked like it could serve a decent meal. After much peering and some asking around on Chesta's and Gatti's part, the four remaining Dragon Slayers managed to track down a house that displayed an ancient-looking sign at the front window spelling the phrase "rums for rent".

"See? It's not so bad, they have drinks," whispered Chesta close to Ryuon's ear as they walked in. The second Slayer just gave him an odd look, not really sharing in his friend's humour.

The ground floor turned out to be a pub, with round, wooden tables big enough for mugs, but too small for plates, spread throughout the room. A staircase at the farthest wall led upstairs, presumably to where the "rums" were located. The keeper stood behind the counter wiping some glasses with a rag that had seen better days. Despite his baldness, the man's moustache was thick enough to hide most of the bottom half of his face. He turned his attention from his stuporous patrons to the new customers when he heard the doorbell jingle.

"Ah, newcomers," he exclaimed, approaching the group. He might have been grinning, but Dilandau's well-trained eye had no trouble catching the tell-tale signs that the man was less than comfortable with the entrance of four armed strangers into his establishment. "What will it be?"

The silver-haired captain stood silent, appraising the location and trying to decide how likely it was for them to be attacked in the middle of the night should they stay, or whether or not the food served there would be edible. The innkeeper was stealing nervous glances at their swords, by the time Dilandau spoke.

"Do you have rooms available?" he inquired. Put at ease by the prospect of business, the man was more than happy to meet Dilandau's eyes and answer. He managed to hold the red gaze for less than a second before becoming unnerved and addressing the plated armour on his shoulders instead.

"Why, yes, young master! I've two rooms on the first floor, with two beds with fresh clean sheets each, just waiting to be taken. Our cook is also here, in case you'd like a nice, hot meal before heading up." The man tried being charming at this point and widened his grin, only for Ryuon to cringe at the back of the group at the sight of his teeth. He whispered something about refusing to eat the same thing as the innkeeper, but the others either did not hear him or they ignored him – which was far more likely.

"How much for the night and food?" Dilandau asked.

"Four hundred pieces," he said. Noticing how three of his customers-to-be widened their eyes in shock, he hastily added, "Please understand, these are difficult times. There are few patrons, and I have a family and employees to look after."

Uncaring of the man's arguments, but feeling the weight of their travels on his shoulders now that he had allowed himself to stop, Dilandau sighed and acquiesced.

"Two rooms and four warm meals, then. Bring the food up to the rooms."

"Why, certainly, sir," the keeper beamed, suddenly unafraid of Dilandau or of any swords on the party's belts. "If you'll just step up to the counter, so we can set up everything?"

**o**

"Hot meal, my ass!" Ryuon was to be found huffing indignantly one hour later, while chewing on a piece of meat. "I've had warmer and better food on the road!" The two other Slayers gave off indication that they agreed by either humming or nodding.

The group of four was relaxing in the same room, plates and trays of food and drinks strewn about within easy reach of any of the occupants. Ryuon was half-sitting, half-lying on one of the beds, hogging a tray, while Gatti had stolen all of his pillows and was sitting comfortably on the floor, munching on a chicken leg. On the bed across from theirs sat Chesta, neatly perched at the foot and sipping from a glass of juice – occasionally stealing a potato from Gatti's plate – and Dilandau. The silver-haired captain had already unstrapped the bits and pieces he retained of his old armour and put up a pillow against the wall to lean on. His garnet eyes were shut and he appeared to be deep in thought.

"Ack! And this meat is almost raw! How can anyone be expected to eat this?" Ryuon continued.

"Now you're just complaining for the sake of it, Ryuon," Gatti replied in-between bites.

"No, I'm not! Try it! And to think we were charged four hundred pieces for this... the nerve!"

"Lord Dilandau," Chesta spoke quietly, deciding to let the other two bad-mouth their tiredness away in the background. "Is everything all right?"

The captain cracked his eyes open just enough to look at the fair-haired seer from under snowy eyelashes and sighed. Chesta worried even more. He did not remember ever seeing their usually unflappable leader looking so weary.

"Shouldn't you be the one knowing the answer to that, Chesta?" he replied half-heartedly, in no way reassuring his Slayer. "We are running short on money. We'll have to find a paying job tomorrow." Catching on to their leader's discussion of plans for the future, the other two Slayers quietened to listen in.

"Do we have enough to afford another night?" the blond Slayer asked.

"Just one more, what with the horses and the stables. Heh, we could probably take on the whole village, but I'd rather not resort to pushing these hicks around just yet. Don't want us to end up getting kicked out like in Chatal."

The trio listening in collectively cringed, remembering the incident Dilandau was referring to. Chesta was the first one to recover, flashing their silver-haired leader an amiable smile.

"Ryuon and I will be on the lookout downstairs tomorrow. One of the patrons is bound to have a need for four pairs of hands, or know someone who does. Don't worry, Lord Dilandau. My visions told me we would do fine here."

"Good. And while you two are at it, Gatti and I will take a look around town, possibly find somewhere where we won't have to dish out this much money a night. We should make good use of your favourable predictions and stay in town for some time. It will be hard to find places that welcome us from here on out."

Despite the ominous forecast, Chesta's smile held firm. Realising how truly tired their Captain was, he cued the others to clear away the food and let Dilandau rest. Before leaving himself, though, Chesta left the red-eyed Captain with one more thought for the night:

"When we were still in the Black Dragon Army, sir, you always looked after us Dragon Slayers and nothing has changed since then, even if we're no longer bound to you in the same way. So don't worry, Lord Dilandau, you could never fail us. We trust in you."

After closing the door behind him, Chesta distinctly heard Dilandau mutter back at him to "stop being such a wimp". He smiled, taking no offence at the rebuke. After all, the seer had always been the one in the group tasked with saying out loud what the others needed to hear but refused to admit out of embarrassment. And every Dragon Slayer knew what their Captain was like when it came to sentimentality.


	2. Colours

**T O R U S H I N A  
A_ Vision of Escaflowne - A Girl In Gaea_ fanfiction**

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**02: Colours**

As planned, the next morning, a much restored Dilandau and his second-in-command left Chesta and Ryuon back at the inn to scout the outskirts of the small town. They were meandering through farms and pastures in search of anything that might be of interest to a group of mercenaries.

The dirt road circling the village was well preserved and all around they could see old farmers calmly working the sun-kissed crops with the help of large, gentle oxen beasts. Gatti thought this was the sort of place where he saw himself living once he got too old to follow Lord Dilandau and decided he wanted to settle down with a family. But that was a long time into the future still, he knew, as he contemplated how his Lord stood straight atop his horse next to him, scrutinizing the landscape with hawk-like detachment.

They had just finished scouring the temporary settlements erected around town. It had taken the two of them hours amongst the multitude of precarious tents to get a feel for the lifestyle of the refugees sheltered there, only to come to the conclusion that there wasn't anyone interested on hiring their services. After that, Lord Dilandau had left quite upset, not just from the lack of results but also from having been forced to endure the company of the miserable for so long. Gatti was wisely choosing to remain silent for the rest of the ride back so as not to unintentionally inflame his Captain's temper.

The sandy-haired Slayer was trying to think of something to pass the time, when a cry coming from the road ahead caught his attention.

"What was that?" he asked automatically, before realising that a riderless, brown horse was leisurely trotting in their direction. When the beast reached them, it halted to greet their mounts and, seeing the saddle, Dilandau reached out to grab the harness.

Just then, a sprinting young woman came into view. She was gasping for breath like she had been running for a good while. Tendrils of platinum-gold hair clung to her cheeks, while others stood up from the wind, giving her a wild air. Her cheeks were healthily coloured from the strain, but she was undeniably a pretty lady, even if grime and use had worn her light purple dress plain.

"I thank you for catching him, sirs," she told the pair with a harmonious, yet precise, voice. Dilandau was surprised by her delicate accent, thinking it sounded strange coming from a country woman's mouth. "One of the boys left the stall doors open and the horse was frightened away by the working beasts nearby..."

"It was nothing," Gatti said. He knew Dilandau was not one for polite exchanges, and he did not want to leave the apparently kind woman alone to suffer his Captain's intense glare - not that she seemed to be minding it much so far. "Have you been running long?"

"Not much." She turned back to the way she had come to point out a farmhouse at the crest of an elevation. "Just from over that hill over there, but I'm afraid I'm not used to running even that much. I have always lived in the city, you see, and there are no endless pastures in which to chase horses there," she feebly joked.

Gatti gave a polite laugh, while his silver-haired Captain extended the wayward mount's reigns to the young woman.

"You are not from around here, then? One of the war refugees?" the Slayer asked.

"Yes," she nodded. She was looking at Dilandau with curiosity, probably wondering why the red-eyed stranger hadn't said anything yet. "I'm out here, while my brother is fighting in the war, back home..." she let the sentence hang for a while before changing the subject, obviously not wanting to pursue that line of thought. "Say, would you two be so kind as to lend us a hand back at the farm? We could use the extra pair of horses."

"We're busy," Dilandau callously dropped, hoping to drive the girl and her useless chatter away.

"It would only take a minute," she insisted, earnestly focusing on the silver-haired man.

"No," Dilandau said with finality, before the woman engaged him in a staring competition, red versus blue.

He had to admit she was bold. It was rare the occasion when he met a man who could look him in the eye without flinching, and to find this quality in a woman... It was refreshing, if unexpected.

Eventually, she gave up on the strangers. The silver-haired Captain heard her mutter something about mercenaries under her breath - a curse, most likely - earning herself another favourable point in his opinion. She was sharp to have realised what they were.

Turning to her horse, she carelessly threw a leg over its back to mount, unwittingly awarding the Dragon Slayer Captain with an eye-opening display of the white creamy skin of her thigh in the process that left Dilandau staring at the spot even after the dress had fallen back to cover it. Then, looking exclusively at Gatti, she thanked and bade them farewell before spurring her horse to move.

"Pretty little thing, wasn't she?" Gatti commented with slight admiration, looking at the young woman's retreating back.

Dilandau "hmm"ed at him, still not quite in his right state of mind, and motioned for them to be on their way.

"I wish we could have helped her, though," Gatti added some time later.

Dilandau shook his head, relinquishing once and for all the thoughts of how nice it would feel to be with a woman again, to instead remind himself how the way Gatti was reacting had been the exact thing that had earned him his position as second-in-command.

From among all the available Black Dragon Army recruits, he had been the chosen one, not only because he had been exceptional with a sword for his age - and Dilandau would not have picked anyone who was much older than him - but also because he had the social skills that the silver-haired commander sorely lacked. He had been an asset to the elite Dragon Slayers team, with his unquestioning loyalty and aptitude to get along well with other people, no matter how different, and now that their little group was forced to mingle with the crowds those skills were coming in especially handy.

Conversely, it had also been one of Dilandau's priorities when training him to temper the young man's soft side.

"Gatti, what we need right now is a paying job; not to be wasting time on charity for a daft girl."

"Yes, Lord Dilandau." And that had been the end of the discussion.

By the time the sun had hit its highest point, Dilandau and Gatti were back at the inn, hoping that Chesta and Ryuon had had better luck than them. Walking into the establishment, they found the pair sitting by a group of tables pulled together in one corner, already digging into their lunches. Gatti's stomach growled a loud protest at the sight.

"We told the cook to save you two some food, don't worry," Ryuon told them upon noticing this, while dragging a chair from a nearby table closer with his foot.

Chesta, ever the more sensible one, rose and took it away from his reach, offering it to Lord Dilandau. "Any luck?" the petit blond then asked.

"Nothing. Everyone is being very well taken care of at the camps and the supplies are plenty enough that there aren't any conflicts. No one has any errands to run or needs to have things delivered abroad. No missing family members to be found, no debts to collect, no wishes for anyone to drop dead, no nothing," Dilandau told his subordinates. "Just a stupid girl wanting to borrow our horses."

"It's the same thing around here. But we did manage to find out that there might be a need of people to act as security during the distribution of the emergency supplies that arrive regularly in town," Chesta reported.

"Apparently, there are always some guys who think they're better than the rest and try to hoard the goods for themselves," Ryuon elaborated, after offering the rest of his food to Gatti. "And it also seems that it's been getting worse, since there isn't anyone around to put up a fight."

"How is that possible? The whole town gathers down there when the supplies arrive, we saw it yesterday," the second-in-command wondered in-between bites.

"Doesn't matter," Dilandau said. He was not about to question a possible job, when it was one where they could finally use their swords again. "It sounds like it could be interesting, not to mention easy. Did you find out anything about possible payment?"

"That's the catch. The people distributing the supplies are all volunteers. We don't know what kind of payment they could offer."

Everyone around the table lowered and fixed their gazes upon its grimy surface. When the Captain next spoke, it was only to confirm what was already running through everyone's minds.

"We'll go talk to these volunteers and see what they have to say. If things don't start looking up by this afternoon, we'll use the rest of our money to stock up on supplies and check out of the inn. We'll have to find a better place to stay, or even leave town. Chatal had too much trouble, but this place has far too little to keep us busy..."

**o**

Later that afternoon, the Dragon Slayers were to be found stationed at the entrance to the stables, where they had seen the supplies arriving the previous day. Their plan was to find out who was coordinating the volunteers, and then talk to the man to try to reach some sort of arrangement.

Dilandau stood stoically, arms crossed over his chest and looking bored as he leaned against a wall. Ryuon and Gatti were being more practical and had chosen to rest their legs and sit on the steps that lead out to the street. Chesta was inside, taking the opportunity to pay the ostler his daily fee and making sure the horses had been well treated.

The group was not sure whether or not any convoys would be arriving today, but they had no other way of contacting their would-be employer. Consisting mostly of volunteers, the workgroup didn't have a post where they could go to for information, and no one they had spoken to had been very forthcoming about identifying the person in charge or telling them where he could be found.

Fortunately for the Dragon Slayers, the hour at which they had arrived the previous day was drawing closer and people were slowly but steadily beginning to gather in the street. Things were looking favourable.

The beginning signs of a commotion at the end of the street caught the attention of the ex-soldiers, and soon a wagon of the same type as the one they had seen the previous day, was clearing a path through the crowd towards them. The pair of beasts pulling the transport - bulky and grey with their horns sawed so they were harmless - was foaming in the mouth from exhaustion and thirst, and obediently stopped close to the entrance to the stables when the driver pulled the reigns.

A skinny young boy jumped off from the back of the wagon and pulled open the grate that was securing their precious merchandise at the back. Several men and women were waiting close by and as soon as the boy was done, they approached to unload the cargo.

Dilandau was pleased to see that there weren't many workers and that what few there were looked as needy as the rest of the crowd. It was also impossible to identify a possible leader, for they all executed their tasks equally: picking up as many crates as they could carry and taking them to a nearby house.

Meanwhile, another group was busy setting up a row of stalls in front of that house, separating the goods in the boxes and putting part of them up on the stands for sale, while the rest went inside. Dilandau looked on that last bit of activity with interest. If they were making a profit out of this, it would not be impossible for them to pay for their services.

"Gatti," he called.

Gatti was standing next to him in no time, but Dilandau didn't continue right away, for his eyes had encountered a curiously familiar sight. The girl he and his second-in-command had found on the road was just leaving the storage house and picking up more supplies to carry inside. It appeared as if she worked there as well.

"Find me the man in charge," the Dragon Slayer Captain finally said.

"Yes, sir."

The Dragon Slayer immediately immersed himself in the crowd, under the attentive gazes of his companions. Dilandau disengaged his stare from the platinum-gold hair of the girl he had recognized and turned to Ryuon.

"Go get Chesta," he commanded his remaining dark-haired Slayer. Once again, his order was promptly followed.

The blond seer had probably already been on his way to join them, for Ryuon's footsteps had yet to fade when Dilandau heard them approaching again and at double the speed. He wondered if something had happened to bother the psychic, knowing how sensitive the sunny-haired Slayer could be to disturbances sometimes. His assumption was proven correct when the two emerged, Chesta looking at him with a sense of urgency.

"Lord Dilandau, something is going to happen, right..."

Across the street and a little further down, a man had just pushed an elderly woman into the stalls during an attempt to snag the bag she had been holding. The precarious wooden counter the few volunteers had put up did little to soften her fall, instead coming down like a house of cards and throwing the many colourful garments that had lain atop it to the ground.

"...now," the petite Slayer finished.

Dilandau knew for a fact that the seer's omen could not have been referring to something as petty as that woman's fall, so he upped his guard and waited for the situation to escalate.

The Captain did not move, but Ryuon and Chesta both stepped forward, the dark-haired Slayer going as far as to place a hand on the hilt of his sword. Standing just behind the wagon and close to where the stands had been, Gatti cast a questioning glance at his Captain, but remained where he was, ready for any eventuality but following his lead by not intervening right away.

The townspeople were not being quite so passive and, while some of the workers - fair-headed beauty included, Dilandau noted - helped the fallen woman back to shaky feet, a few of the strongest men had stepped forward to defend the elder.

They shouted colourful demands at the assailant and moved in on him, confident that their size and numbers would be enough to discourage him from any further action. They probably thought that they could not permit any disrespect or untowardly behaviour between the folk, lest the fragile town become a lawless haven for bandits in the blink of an eye. Unfortunately for them, they were underestimating their opposition.

Seeing their advance, the initial assailant threw the bag of goods he'd just taken over his shoulder and produced a ruddy-looking sword from under his long beige tunic. In addition to that, four more bandits had extricated themselves from the crowd to join their friend, bearing their own weapons and dragging a wailing woman by the hair along.

The threat was clear and the townspeople did nothing but watch as the group cleared the rest of the goods on the stalls and opened a path towards the wagon.

Risking a chance now that their attention was no longer fully concentrated on the woman being held hostage, one brash - or dim-witted - townsman crept closer to the villainous group. In an unexpected move, he lunged forward, managing to score a punch on a surprised thug, before another swung his blade at his midriff and cut him down.

Dilandau secretly smiled when he saw the fear and surprise on the people's eyes. It looked like this town had just become worth their while.


	3. Enter The Dragon Slayers

**T O R U S H I N A  
A_ Vision of Escaflowne - A Girl In Gaea_ fanfiction**

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**03: Enter the Dragon Slayers**

It took less than a second for the townsman who had tried to rescue the hostage woman to fall to the ground. And in the meanwhile, the group of thieves had already created themselves an exit route and taken control of the supply wagon.

Dilandau was amazed at how such a disorganised group had ever managed to get that far. He decided that he would give the rest of the townspeople a little more time to convince themselves of the direness of the situation before he interfered.

He hated heroics, but that did not mean he did not know how to pull them - besides, actions could not be considered heroic when people did them with their own gain in mind and knew for a fact that their opponents did not stand a chance.

Gatti was close to the supply wagon and in perfect position to either reach the thug handling the woman or to quickly jump on the back of the wagon should it take off. Chesta and Ryuon had no such privileged positions, but Dilandau knew they were effective enough as a team for it to matter little. And he... he could be a mile away and still bring down the attackers with nothing more than a thought. The situation was not even challenging, but for now he was more interested in making the show look good.

He bid his time, expecting to see some more townsmen to step forward and try to be heroes - someone was bound to carry a weapon of some kind, someone whose size would make them comfortable enough to expose themselves - but, to his mild disgust, no one did. The thieves were simply going to get away with the supplies without further objection.

Dilandau was about to order his Dragon Slayers into action when he saw something that surprised him enough to hold him in place. A thin woman had suddenly moved resolutely to stand in front of the closest thug with a glare.

"That stupid, daft girl..." Dilandau muttered under his breath, recognising the blonde beauty he and Gatti had run into earlier while on the road.

"Please don't do this! We can share whatever supplies you need for no charge, but please don't do this. Think of all the people who will starve, who will die of illness if you take away those provisions!" Her pleads rung with conviction, and Dilandau could not help but admire her nerve.

He noticed his second-in-command looking his way once more, asking for instructions, but Dilandau gave him none. He was curious to see what the girl would do.

"Shut up, missy!" The thief grunted back, before turning to his companions. "We ready to move out?"

"All set," hollered back the one holding the reigns of the beasts at the front of the caravan.

Hearing the confirmation, the thief holding the hostage started to drag her towards the wagon, but the daring blonde cried out again to stop him.

"Please, don't! Take the supplies! But don't take her, she is of no use to you!"

The grunt turned around to stare at the young woman who was the only one in that town brave enough to stand up to him. "I'm not so sure about that," he chuckled with a sickening leer on his face.

The girl's face twisted in disgust as the meaning behind those words became clear, but she immediately pulled herself back together. "Then take me instead," she did not hesitate to reply.

By now, Gatti's hand was twitching to grab his sword - he was metres away from the heart of the confrontation but his leader had yet to give him any indication to move. Ryuon and Chesta had thrown discretion to the winds and were staring openly at Dilandau, just waiting for the barest signal to spring forward and defuse the situation.

Unaware of these proceedings and seeing that the thief was not paying her any attention, the young blonde launched herself forward to try to free the hostage by force herself. Realising this, the thief reacted on instinct and threw his blade in her direction, high enough that it would impact on the soft skin of her neck.

The blade may not have been much, but with its present course and speed it would be more than enough to kill the fragile young woman.

Gatti tried to move when he heard her scream, but he knew he would never be on time. Likewise, Chesta and Ryuon watched sadly for the outcome, while the rest of town was still frozen in place.

The blade was centimetres away from piercing her skin when it stopped mid-air.

And while the thief was busy gawking at the sight, Gatti took it upon himself to cuff him on the back of the head with the hilt of his sword before he could do any more damage. The fiend dropped unconscious to the ground and the woman he had been holding immediately fled to rejoin the safety of the crowd.

The remaining two Dragon Slayers quickly ran over to subdue the trio who was inside the wagon, thus securing the supply cart and leaving only one more thief to deal with.

Dilandau calmly walked over to the woman he had been admiring and with a sardonic smile on his face plucked the bandit's sword from where it lay suspended midair. Casting a swift gaze over the blonde to make sure she was unscathed, he turned to the single remaining thief left standing.

"You're not even worth my time. Get out of my sight," he threatened in low tones.

The addressed man stood still for a moment, unsure of what to make of the dismissal. Finally, he could not hold the intense blood-red stare directed at him anymore, turned on his heel and ran off.

The Dragon Slayers let him pass unchallenged and watched as he disappeared beyond the town limits before making their way over to their Captain.

Dilandau had by now turned his full attention to the silent young woman who was still in shock over her narrow escape from death. He had been expecting her to recover a bit faster from the events, but rather than being disappointed by her weakness, the lost look on her face made him smirk.

"Are you alright, miss?" The inquiry came from Gatti, who was looking on with concern. She nodded faintly.

Another one of the volunteers joined their little gathering then. He was an elderly fellow with grey hair and beard to match, and he did not hesitate to embrace the young woman and rub her back soothingly.

"There, there, child... what you did was very brave..."

"You mean stupid," Dilandau interjected. "If we hadn't been here, she would be dead."

The girl shrugged off her friend's embrace and nodded a bit more resolutely in agreement with the Dragon Slayer Captain. Then she did the unexpected and threw herself into Dilandau's arms.

Out of sight from their leader, the Dragon Slayers stared at them, Chesta going so far as to put a hand over his mouth not to giggle. They imagined Dilandau would be mortified, if not angered, by the girl's display, but in truth he was not sure what he was feeling. All he knew was that this girl's scent was different from any others' he had ever met, in a most definitely pleasant way.

"Yes, it was foolish," he somehow heard the old man saying. "On behalf of everyone in this town, I thank you, strangers."

"Save us the speech," Dilandau replied, half-heartedly disentangling himself from the blonde who had wrapped her arms around his neck. "We're here to do business."

"«Business»?" the man repeated, looking confused.

"Exactly. We're mercenaries, looking for employment."

"I'm sorry," the town's self-appointed spokesperson floundered, immediately changing attitudes. "We have nothing here with which to pay for your services."

"That's all right. Consider what happened here today a demonstration."

The three Dragon Slayers exchanged glances behind their captain's back, finding it strange that he had not even contested the man's blatant lie.

"Let us know how things go when that guy I sent home returns with the rest of his friends."

Gatti swore the man's eyes were close to popping out as he heard this. He even stuttered afterwards.

"T- The... rest? Y- you think... there's more of them?"

"Definitely," Dilandau confirmed with a callous gesture. "Well, my men and I still have to find a place where we can stay for the night, so we'll be going on our way."

He turned and motioned for Gatti, Chesta and Ryuon to follow him. They had not taken more than three steps when the grey-haired man's voice bid them to stop.

"Wait! You can stay at my house! My family and I would be honoured to have your company. And we can discuss... business... over dinner. What do you say?"

The leader of the Dragon Slayers pretended to think for a second, before he said: "Fine. Which house is yours?"

"Celena can show you the place," he said taking a deep breath and pointing at the blonde who had risked her life and was quietly following the conversation. "Go with them, child. We will be expecting you tonight, then."

"Good. Make sure there's plenty of food, my men and I are starving," the red-eyed put in before finally walking away, with the platinum-gold haired girl - Celena - following close behind.

Dilandau was making no effort to disguise a pleased smirk as he ponderingly stroked his cheek with his index. The old man and his fears had been much too easy to manipulate to their advantage - but that was not the main reason he was feeling thusly. If all went as he thought it would, he and his Slayers would have a guaranteed and safe place to stay for the time being.

And then there was the plus that he would apparently be staying close to the daft, pretty blonde. He was looking forward to that.


	4. Gaean Sheep

**T O R U S H I N A  
A_ Vision of Escaflowne - A Girl In Gaea_ fanfiction**

* * *

**04: Gaean Sheep**

It appeared that the old man - whom Celena had revealed was named Gekki - had taken Dilandau's words seriously. When the four Dragon Slayers and their guide arrived for dinner later that evening, a veritable feast was waiting for them.

Gatti could barely contain himself as he stared at the delicious-looking varied offer of food: hot soup and roast, a pile of tiny appetizers stuffed with colourful vegetables and a creamy dessert with cinnamon and scalded sugar. Even Ryuon was pleased with what he saw, despite the fact that the plates were cracked and the cutlery had lost its shine over the years of use.

It was a surprise to find such food on a poor place like this. It was a sight none of them had seen since before the war between the Black Dragon Clan and the Abaharaki had begun in earnest, and perhaps even before then.

Chesta was more contained that the other two and spent more time trying to be pleasant to their hosts than absorbing the indeed tasty dinner. He was the only one really listening to the stories Gekki was telling of how different that town had been during his childhood and how the war had affected them. Even Dilandau had his attention focused elsewhere.

Sitting across the table from Celena, he kept his eyes on her throughout most of the meal. On her part, far from being unnerved by the unusual stare, the blonde had kept a mysterious smile on her face, and every now and then took a break from listening to Gekki or conversing with the rest of the family to return his gaze.

Gekki had just finished telling a story that had something to do with an old water well located close to where they were in the outskirts of town, when his wife and oldest daughter started picking up everyone's empty plates and replacing them with dessert. It was at this point that the conversation turned to matters directly concerning the Dragon Slayers.

"And now that we have our stomachs full, I think we should discuss your conditions. My family and I are prepared to offer you food and shelter as you require. Would that be sufficient payment for protecting us when those villains return?"

Gatti and Ryuon's ears instantly perked up as they were wont to when they sensed something important was taking place, while Chesta turned his attention to their Captain. He was wondering if perhaps Dilandau had missed the question, because it took him a while to answer. But answer he did, as he lazily fixed his stare on the man sitting at the top of the table.

"No, it would not. We will stay here, but we require actual payment. After all, we do intend to leave some time afterwards."

"But I told you we don't have..." The grey-haired man was starting to say when Celena interrupted him.

"It's fine, Mister Gekki. I will pay their fees, and if necessary, we can also use some of the funds from the sales." Her eyes had hardened and she was no longer smiling as she spoke.

"Celena, you can't do that!" he protested. "We need those funds to pay for the transport of the provisions! You know very well that the post-war assistance doesn't reach us this far into the country."

"All the more reason why we need to make sure that whatever supplies do get here, _stay_ here," she countered. "Don't worry, we'll manage."

Dilandau observed the small exchange, curious about the young woman and the authority she clearly wielded. She must have possessions, to be able to pay for four mercenaries, but if that were so, then he wondered what was she doing living in this Gods-forsaken place.

"I am sure we can reach a price that will suit everyone," she concluded, pushing her untouched dessert aside and rising from the table. "Now, if you'll forgive me, I think I'll retire. It's been a very long day."

"Of course, child."

Gekki kissed her cheek in goodnight and watched her leave, before turning back to the Dragon Slayers.

"Speaking of which: my wife has prepared two rooms for your stay. One of them belongs to my daughters so I hope you won't mind the decoration," he tried to joke through the silence that had set upon Celena's departure.

Still deep in thought, the Captain responded curtly: "it will be fine."

**o**

Despite what she had said, Celena was not feeling the least bit tired that night.

She had worked hard at mister Gekki's farm all morning and even ran a distance while chasing after a runaway horse - during which time she had met the most alluring man she'd even seen. Then she had spent the afternoon working with the rest of the volunteers, until she had come inches away from death - and was saved by the very same exotic man that had caught her attention earlier.

She really should be feeling tired, but whenever she thought back to the unusual colour of that man's eyes, all her energy was inexplicably restored.

She shook her head and went outside to let the cool night air clear her thoughts. Lifting herself up to sit on the fence circling the property, she contemplated the stars and moons.

It was just her luck that she had to go and develop a crush on the first handsome man she saw, without talking to him first. Because if she had taken the time to do that, she would have seen his arrogance straight away - and his moodiness and his rudeness and his... everything! - and fallen for the cute sandy-haired guy next to him instead or, better yet, neither of the two, since they were going to leave anyway.

"Stars, Celena... think about the stars," she tightly closed her eyes and muttered to herself. "I suppose it would help if I knew any of the constellations here... I'm so far away from home, even the stars are different..."

And then, of course, she being the great big jerk she was had to go and hug him after he had saved her life, and decide that his smell reminded her of the woods close to home where she used to play as a kid, and that she would not have minded staying there, listening to his heart beat for just a little longer. She had definitely fallen hard.

"Fine! I'll just make my own stupid constellations. It's not like they ever have anything to do with what they're named after anyway," she grumbled, frustrated with herself.

"That's true," the familiar voice interrupted her. She looked to the side to find the object of her fixation leaning against the fence next to her.

Dilandau Albatou had been made to be admired under the pale light of the moons and stars, she decided there and then - and he was sneaky and silent as a mouse too.

"Finished convincing mister Gekki of how indispensable you are?" She accused, half annoyed, half unnerved. It was not natural for someone to look that good.

He lifted a single platinum eyebrow, but otherwise did not react.

"Don't think I didn't notice what you did earlier at the square. I wonder: did you let that crook escape on purpose, knowing you would be able to use that fact to your advantage afterwards, or was it really just a lucky coincidence?"

The only response she got was a smirk.

"What? I could have told mister Gekki about what you were doing, and I still can," she challenged.

"You won't do that, you want me to stay," he stated, and if Celena had not been gripping the fence so hard, she might have fallen.

"What?" she cried indignantly. "That's nonsense! I have nothing but disgust for you mercenaries - making a profit out of other people's suffering!"

Celena grilled him with a look, and was feeling quite pleased with herself for not melting at the silver-haired man's natural charm. If only he would look her way to see how it was not working, instead of gazing at the stars...

Getting anxious and wanting to provoke a reaction out of him, she decided to say something that would be sure to catch his attention.

"You're a draconian, aren't you?" Celena blurted before she could consider the full implications of the statement and immediately covered her mouth in horror that she had. She saw Dilandau tense.

"Why would you say that?" he asked lightly, but she could tell he was very interested in hearing the answer.

She shifted in her place and tried to make it look like she had been slipping from her seat. "You used magic to stop the blade that was coming at me today," she spoke uncertainly. "That was you, wasn't it?"

At the same time she wanted to give him a sincere answer, she did not want to offend him. Draconians were often referred to as the "demon people", after all.

"I'm sorry... forget I said that."

"It doesn't matter, you're right," he dryly confirmed. "I'm only half-blood, though. Does it bother you?"

"No!" Celena was quick to assure. "I just... thought all the draconians had disappeared when Fanelia was destroyed. I thought Folken and Van had been the only ones to survive."

Celena knew that after he had commanded the attack that razed the city to the ground, Folken, the fallen Prince who had then declared himself Emperor over his father's dead body, had executed every draconian to dispose of competition and to send a message of power to his brother Van and to the rest of Gaea. Had Dilandau somehow survived that massacre?

"You're well informed for someone who is so far away from the big cities," the leader of the Dragon Slayers commented, sparing her an appraising look.

"My brother was one of the leaders of the Abaharaki resistance. I threatened to go back to the city if he didn't send me news whenever something big happened," she explained with a small but proud smile. "He always sent someone he trusted along with the message to make sure I was still here and that I wouldn't run off into danger afterwards."

Dilandau took the information in stride, careful not to show any reaction to the revelation. Inwardly, though, he was thankful that her brother had obviously not bothered to go into great detail about the enemy he had been fighting in those letters, otherwise Celena would have undoubtedly heard all kinds of stories about Folken's favourite white-haired demon general and his ruthless elite troops.

He had faced the rebels many times and tried to think of who the girl's brother could be. Almost immediately, he came up with a face he had met in battle more than once.

The Abaharaki had been a small group, despite the chaos they had been able to spread throughout the Empire of the Black Dragon, and there was only one person he knew of who could be this young woman's sibling. Long blond hair, blue eyes of the same shade as hers and a deadly skill with a sword were traits that made him stand out from the rest of the Abaharaki: Allen Schezar.

"It would seem danger came to you instead," he said ironically.

Thinking that he was referring to the thieves and relieved that the topic had not upset him, Celena laughed, oblivious to the dangerous glint in the red eyes before her.

"So why haven't you gone back yet? The war is over now," he coolly inquired, trying not to think of how easy it would be to take revenge on the man who had ruined everything for him.

Allen Schezar had humiliated him, killed his men and destroyed Folken, the only one who could have taught him more about his draconian skills and given him more power. Most importantly, though, the blond had taken away Dilandau's freedom.

When the Black Dragon Clan had been deposed and he and his men had been forced to flee the capital of their crumbling Empire, Dilandau had not been particularly bothered by his leader's fall. He had imagined that there would be plenty of other places in the world where he would be able to do what he did best and loved: to fight. But after months of being on the road, it had slowly dawned on him that everywhere he and his Dragon Slayers went, they would have to hide their faces and hope none who lived there had ever crossed paths with Folken's most infamous team in the past.

His pride was not taking kindly to the treatment, and his sword longed for a good, bloody confrontation with a worthy enemy, but he could not afford to indulge his desires like that. Not when everyone was still on the look out for anyone affiliated to the Black Dragon and the name Dilandau Albatou was at the top of their list.

Allen Schezar obviously cared greatly for this sister, else he would not have gone to such lengths to keep her safe during wartime. And now, here was Dilandau, like a wolf in sheep's clothing talking quietly to her in the middle of the night while she was none the wiser.

How easy it would be to take revenge - to slit her throat, call out to his Dragon Slayers and leave this town behind. Yet, he hesitated.

"Allen asked me to wait until the government they're setting up is more stable. He said that I would be safer staying here with mister Gekki, as there are still many around who are loyal to the old Black Dragon Clan."

"He's right," Dilandau conceded, still debating what to do with the information.

"I'm not helpless, you know?" she complained, once again wrongfully assuming that he shared her brother's narrow views. "Anyway, I am not too bothered by that. I think I can make more of a difference here, helping the refugees, rather than back home at Torushina."

Celena smiled and finally looked more closely at her companion's face. She realized that something was off.

"Are you all right? Did I say something wrong again?"

Dilandau was not looking at her, not wanting to see the face of Allen Schezar in that girl. He was frowning heavily.

"Dilandau...?"

Careful not to alert her to the path his thoughts had taken, he thought back to the beginning of the conversation, and tried to come up with something to say. Whatever he decided to do about Schezar, it would not do to have her become suspicious.

"That one is Crion."

"What?" Celena replied at once. She was suddenly feeling a bit like a fool - first for obviously upsetting him so much, and then for not even knowing what he was talking about.

"Those three stars in a row," he cleared up, pointing to the sky above the farmhouse. "They're Crion's spear, and to their left is Crion."

Celena looked in the same direction he was pointing and tried to imagine where the so-called Crion could be. She saw the spear but not the figure supposedly holding it.

"Is there a story behind this Crion?" she inquired, letting the former conversation drop and slowly adjusting to the brusque shift in topics.

"It's kind of a personal constellation," he said, finally lowering his gaze towards her to see her bearing a small smile much like the ones she had directed at him earlier that night, during dinner.

"Meaning, you just made this up."

"No," he said, choosing to forget for the moment just who Celena was. "I made it up years ago."

She laughed, thinking of what a strange man this was. His eyes had turned back towards the stars, and admiring the way that his silvery hair reflected the light of the two moons, Celena had no doubt that he could indeed see something there.

Then, just as abruptly as he had switched topics, he gave a low huff, stepped away from the fence and turned to leave without saying another word.

"Good night," she shouted at his back, indignant at his sudden dismissal.

She let him go, deciding to investigate his reasons for doing so in the morning.


	5. What'cha Gonna Do?

**T O R U S H I N A  
A_ Vision of Escaflowne - A Girl In Gaea_ fanfiction**

* * *

**05: What'cha Gonna Do? **

The following morning, Chesta could be found standing outside, close to where Dilandau and Celena had spoken during the night. He was still wearing the under shirt he had slept in and had not bothered to lace his boots all the way up, as he leaned against the fence and watched his two other friends duelling out their discords on the dew-touched yard.

It had been an interesting night for the three Slayers, if not a very restful one, with all three crammed up on an entirely too small and too pink room. Ryuon had wasted no time in claiming the larger bed as his, leaving the smaller, six-year-old-sized one to the other two. The blond seer with the bowl-cut hair had deferred to their old military training and offered to leave it to his second-in-command while he slept on the ground.

Some time after that, Chesta was still twisting and turning on the hard floor, unaware that he was also pushing aside all the pillows beneath that were affording him what little measure of comfort there was to be had. He was awake when he heard Lord Dilandau enter the room next to theirs, late into the night. Even longer after that, just as he had been about to fall into the world of dreams, the seer had been startled awake by a crash and a loud yelp.

Gatti had gotten up and walked over to the drawers next to Ryuon's bed to pick up an extra blanket. Hearing the footsteps through his light sleep, the purple-haired slayer had reacted on instinct, tried to reach his sword where it would normally hang on his side, but miscalculated his situation and ended up rolling off the bed. He'd banged his head on the open drawer, and ended up pinning down Gatti on the floor.

Chesta thanked the goddess he had preferred to lie down next to the window rather than between the two beds, as he would presently be under the night stand that had fallen along with Ryuon, Gatti and his twisted leg. From then on out, there had been no more peace to be had on that bedroom. At least, not until the sun started coming out.

Now, Gatti and Ryuon were settling their differences under the guise of a friendly spar. Chesta knew they weren't serious - the Dragon Slayers were too close for a night spent in blank to do that - but arguing and fighting was a good way as any to pass the time.

So far, Ryuon seemed to be having the upper hand, because Gatti wasn't moving as fluidly as he normally would. Chesta did not even consider joining in, as his back still had some recovering to do from having lain on the wooden floor. He figured Gatti's troubles derived more or less from the same affliction: Chesta still was not entirely sure how the sandy-haired Slayer had fit in that under-sized bed, not to mention his leg might still be aching from the odd angle it had been forced into when Ryuon had squashed him.

Ryuon was preparing to throw a low slash at Gatti's legs and, true to his skill, the second-in-command anticipated his intention. He tried to spin away, but chose the wrong leg to support his weight and ended up in an indefensible position with a knee on the grass. Ryuon smirked as he saw this and went for his neck. Figuring that he had run out of options, Gatti decided he had nothing to lose by playing dirty - literally - and flung a handful of earth at Ryuon's eyes.

Unable to evade it, Ryuon stepped back and lowered his guard while attempting to clear the dirt from his face. It was all the break the light-haired slayer needed: Gatti let go of his sword and sprung on Ryuon to make him drop his. After that, they both went down to the ground to wrestle it out.

Amused by the sudden shift in fighting style to where it could not really be considered a fight any more, Chesta started laughing. Behind him, someone else also did. He turned to see Celena watching the proceedings, apparently as entertained by them as he was.

"Oh my." She lifted a hand to her face. "Are they always like that?"

Looking once more at his friends going from loose headlock, to arm lock, to pulling on each other's hair like little kids, Chesta had no trouble replying.

"Those two? Oh, yes. But only with each other."

"I see..." She paused to give another crystalline laugh as Ryuon succeeded in immobilizing the other. "Well, with all this activity, I imagine you must be hungry. Have you had breakfast yet?"

"No," Chesta replied kindly. "No one was up yet and we didn't feel comfortable raiding the kitchen ourselves."

"Then come on in," she invited, turning back towards the house. "Go get cleaned up, and by the time you're in I'll have something ready for you three."

Celena kept her promise and when a pair of damp-haired Slayers finally sat down on the kitchen opposite of Chesta, the table was already set for four.

"Good morning, miss Celena," they greeted just before starting to pile food onto their plates.

Like the night before, Chesta was the more sensible one. "This looks wonderful, miss Celena, thank you. I hope it wasn't too much trouble."

"Not at all. Since I have been here, I've gotten used to cooking, and for a large number of people at that," she assured while she poured tea for everyone. She then sat next to Chesta and considered how to best approach the subject of her curiosity. "Is your leader still sleeping?"

"No, Lord Dilandau is always up before the sun," Gatti replied easily, even though Celena had been looking at the seer.

"Oh. Should I place an extra setting, then?"

"Don't bother, he left already. Didn't say where he was going though," Ryuon pondered and looked at Gatti in a silent request for any information he might have to share.

"I missed him too, thanks to you," was the comeback. They glared at each other for a split second, before deciding that eating was more important.

"I think he might have gone to get the horses from town. Since you have stables here, there's no point in leaving them there," said Chesta. "He should be back at any moment."

The seer's steady gaze suddenly made Celena feel as nervous as a schoolgirl with a forbidden crush. She recognized the symbol on his forehead and, in a moment of paranoia, could not help but wonder what exactly did he know about her intentions, or if she was making her interest in the Captain too obvious. She quickly pushed those thoughts aside, equating that there was nothing wrong with asking about the whereabouts of a person.

"Oh. It's all right then. It's just that we should probably talk a bit more about what you'll have to do for us," she commented. "Anyway, did you sleep well?"

Three grimaces let her know the answer was a negative, but before anything more could be said, the three Dragon Slayers heard the front door opening and a set of easily identifiable staccato footsteps going in the direction of the rooms they had occupied.

"That would be him," Gatti informed Celena. "We should go." They immediately excused themselves and, thanking her for the breakfast once again, left the kitchen to go see their captain.

They caught him still in the entrance hall and unconsciously aligned before him in a single file with Gatti at the right end, like they had been required to do in the past. Fortunately for them, they had already lost the habit of saluting and standing at attention, else Celena would have caught on to their militaristic behaviour and start wondering what army they had come from.

She had followed the boys, but hung back close to the kitchen door to observe them without disturbing. She was curious to hear if Dilandau would share with them any of the reasons why he had left upset the last night. Instead, all she heard were curt orders to accompany him into town.

**o**

It was not until after lunch that Celena headed out to town herself, and ran across the Dragon Slayers and their Captain again.

She had just entered the house the volunteer group had been using as a storage place for the supplies that were to be distributed, only to be surprised by the fact that all four boys were waiting inside accompanied by one of her fellow workers.

"There she is," the old woman told Dilandau, pointing at Celena, before returning to work.

Celena vaguely wondered why the Dragon Slayers would be asking around this place for her, but was more intrigued by the way Gatti and Dilandau were looking at her.

Dilandau's expression was closed, revealing nothing, and she found that that was more unnerving than any glare she had seen him sport so far. She figured he was still upset about whatever it was she had said - could it be because of the talk about him being a draconian? - but that did not account for Gatti's attitude.

The sandy-haired Slayer had been very cheerful that morning, and in the scarce dialogues Celena had had with him so far, he had always seemed like a very nice and accessible person. But now, there was something different about his smile that rung false.

Chesta and Ryuon were still the same, though. The blond was still smiling kindly at her, while Ryuon kept his distance with an half surprised, half distasteful look.

"Is something going on? Were you looking for me?" she asked.

"Actually," said Dilandau, "we were looking for the leader of this operation. Turns out it's you."

"Well, of course it's me," Celena replied, glad that he was at least talking to her, but still irritated that he was being so standoffish. "I am the one who hired you and I am the one who is paying you. Did you think I would divert funds from here if I wasn't in charge?"

A half smile slowly spread on the silver-haired Slayer's face. "Of course."

For a moment, Celena was not sure what to say. She wanted to know why he had suddenly become so cold again, but did not feel comfortable speaking about it in front of so many people. At the same time, though, it did not feel right to simply ignore it either.

"Well, I wanted to talk to you earlier about your duties while you work for me, before you disappeared," she ventured, thinking it was a safe topic to start a conversation. "But since you're here anyway, how about you start helping like everyone else?"

The Captain of the Dragon Slayers grimaced slightly but gave a nod at his three subordinates after a moment.

Seeing the gesture, Chesta did not hesitate to pick up the closest crate and start making himself useful, as did Gatti after sending another forced smile Celena's way. Ryuon hung back, frowning. He was inwardly debating what carried more weight: his Lord's orders or his revulsion at what he was being asked to do. He was quick to make up his mind, though, as soon as he noticed a broken radio, dusting away in a corner. He had been the team's communications officer, and had an enthusiasm for anything technological, so working on that old radio would be a good way to appease the two conflicting demands, even if he would still be painfully aware of the thick layer of dust coating the shabby workplace.

Finding herself alone with Dilandau, Celena walked over to another room that served as a more private office. It was where she took care of the paperwork behind the shipments and everything else.

Dilandau followed her in, not intending in the least to engage in any menial task. Once inside, he pulled himself a chair, threw whatever was on it on the floor and settled down to observe.

Celena lifted an eyebrow at him as she sat down at the desk herself, conveniently facing him. She was able to resist the stare for a full five minutes, before giving in to the silence.

"Are you going to make yourself useful or just sit there and distract me?" She inquired in a crisp accent.

"You hired me to protect your shipments against bandits. I don't see anyone around who needs to have a sword run through them," he testily replied.

Celena took a deep breath and mustered as much courage as the persistent red gaze on her would allow. What she had to say was going to be embarrassing.

"Look... I can tell our talk last night upset you. The only reason I can think of for that is because I brought up your heritage, so... I'm sorry about that. I meant no offence," she said as quickly as possible without making it sound rushed or insincere. Her eyes were glued to the stack of papers in front of her at all times.

She heard him huff and the chair creak as he leaned on its back legs. "I'm not «upset». And it's not like I'm ashamed of my draconian blood - quite the contrary."

Celena would have liked to pursue the matter further, but did not know what else she could say without sounding like she was meddling into his affairs. The truth was that she had no way of knowing whether or not something was bothering Dilandau. She had met him the previous day and only had one significant conversation with the man - those were no standards by which to judge his character. For all she knew, this was his usual attitude and last night had been the abnormal one.

She hoped it was not so, as despite the silent treatment she still felt very much attracted to him and hoped to become closer. Maybe that was the reason why this was affecting her so much.

Resigning herself not to push any further, Celena left him in peace to think through on whatever was on his mind. Any further attempts at a conversation would have to come from his end.

She sighed and continued reviewing her paperwork under his watchful stare.

On the other room, while Ryuon tinkered happily with his new-found toy and got the occasional minor shock from crossing wires that were not meant to be connected, Chesta kept an anxious eye on what little could be seen of the office through the open door. He moved closer to Gatti.

"Hey, Gatti," he whispered. "Aren't you worried about what Lord Dilandau might do about miss Celena?"

Gatti dropped his boxes and looked in the same direction as his friend. Everything seemed quiet in there.

"I think that if he really wanted to do something about it, he would have done it already, Chesta," the second-in-command said, trying to appease his companion's worries.

"I guess you're right."

The blond seer shook his head to dispel his thoughts, for once hoping that his predictions turned out to be accurate. Over the little time they had spent together, Chesta had grown quite fond of Celena and would hate for anything to happen to her.

Most importantly, though, he could tell his Captain was not immune to her charms either. The Slayer thought that it would be a shame if vengeance got in the way of what might happen.


	6. Sora's Folktale

**T O R U S H I N A  
A_ Vision of Escaflowne - A Girl In Gaea_ fanfiction**

* * *

_**Notes:**  
Special thanks in this chapter to LaSkepticalWriter for the wonderful beta! I hope you all enjoy! ;)_

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**06: Sora's Folktale**

"By the Gods, Gatti!" Chesta shouted, surprised and admonishing at the same time. "What are you doing?"

Gatti got up from the bed as quick as lightning when he heard someone was coming into the room, and faced the seer with a small conciliatory smile. "Chesta, keep your voice down! I can explain. Just… don't tell anyone? Please?" he rasped in a hushed voice.

"Of course I won't tell. But what do you think you are doing on that bed?"

The sandy-haired Slayer's shoulders sagged in relief and he let himself drop back on the bed. "What does it look like? I'm giving my spine a chance to straighten."

"By sleeping on Lord Dilandau's bed?" Chesta asked, now amused, leaning against the door's threshold. "Do you have a death wish you never told us about?"

"That's why the door was closed. I was just going to lie for a bit until he came in and then make up some excuse for being in his room. I didn't mean to fall asleep, though I guess I shouldn't be surprised that I did."

Gatti paused then, to stretch his muscles and a loud 'pop!' was heard. He frowned, then yawned loudly, while Chesta visibly winced.

"Ow, my back feels like it's been twisted into an eight, Ches... Between all the horse-riding and that torture instrument you call a bed back in our room, I don't think I'll ever be able to stand straight again. I'm going to turn into one of those old men who have to keep their hands clasped behind their backs to counter-weight their heads and not fall on their faces."

The seer laughed and went inside to stand by his friend. "Want me to step on you?" he asked seriously.

"What?" The second-in-command blurted, staring at Chesta as if he had sprouted wings.

"You lie down, and I step on you. Without my boots, of course," he added once he saw Gatti's speculative look. "It's a great massage. I remember the monks back home used to do it all the time, because we were required to meditate, for hours, in weird postures every day. Ouch."

"Ok, ok… I believe you. It's a massage. But I'm still not letting you put your smelly feet on me," he said good-naturedly.

"In that case, I'll graciously take your bed and leave you to sleep on the floor tonight," Chesta joked back, before straightening and turning serious again. "I have to get going now."

"Wait, where are you going?" Gatti asked, sitting up and looking a bit more alert. "Are you looking for Lord Dilandau?"

"Yeah," the blond replied. "Come along and I'll explain on the way."

Gatti was quick to nod his agreement and, in no time, the two Slayers had left the room behind to search for their leader.

**o**

Celena missed dinner at home that day. In fact, by the time she had finished up everything she had to do in town, it was so late that the cries of wild animals could be faintly heard in the distance. Most people had been comfortably asleep for hours.

The walk back to the manor was rather long, and the last thing she felt like doing at the moment. Part of her was inclined to just bunch up her coat, use it as a pillow and spend the night in the office, but there were a number of reasons not to do that, so it was fortunate that the night was at least pleasant.

She had spent the greater part of the day making runs through the refugee camps, and then the rest cooped up in her mouldy makeshift office, making all the necessary arrangements for what would happen the next day.

All she wanted now was to hide under the covers of her bed and hope the sun did not wake her up too early in the morning. And if the Goddess was feeling generous, she would really appreciate it too if Gekki's oldest daughter were to be already snoozing away on her side of the room when she got there. The girl was nice, but her attempts at educating Celena on raunchy countryside expressions were something she would gladly pass.

At long last, the wooden fence of the farmhouse that was her temporary home and the field beyond it came into view. The abraded brick-coloured exterior of the house almost seemed uniform in this light, and the stilted roof not as precarious as during the day. Celena sought out the window to her room on the second storey and was thankful to realize that the lights there were out already. The window next to it, though, one that belonged to one of the rooms mister Gekki had given to their newest employees, was lit.

Celena did not know for sure if it belonged to Dilandau or to the others, but in the end decided that it did not matter. She was too ragged to go see them, even if it had been days since she had been with any one of them other than Ryuon.

It had been almost a week since they had moved into the house and since that first morning when she had found the three Dragon Slayers practicing outside, she had been unable to catch them before they disappeared to do whatever it was they did during the day.

Tonight, she was feeling so tired and worn that she did not even intend to contradict what her drooping eyelids were ordering her to do. The next day, she would stay in bed till late. She gave in easily not just because she felt she needed - and had earned - the rest, but also because she had the assurance that by the following afternoon they would cross paths.

She was almost to the door when her addled senses suddenly decided to kick in and tell her there was something wrong with the picture she was seeing.

The small garden where mister Gekki's wife liked to try her hand at gardening was the same as usual, with half the tools hanging from their respective hooks on the wall and the other half strewn about being a hazard to wildlife. Just beyond that, the wheat fields were looking as smooth as ever, but horses were not supposed to be grazing freely out front in the middle of the night.

She sighed, wondering if the day would ever end, and grumpily made her way over to fetch the animal, when something else registered: the horse was not on its own. Its owner - she had to double-check the horse to finally notice that indeed it was not Gekki's - was lying down on the grassy patch between the small garden and the endless cereal plantation.

She felt herself begin to smile, as she went to stand over him and looked down.

"Mind if I join you?" She started settling down even before the other could say anything. Her speech was coming out slurred, and it was a good sign that she was in desperate need to get off her feet. She might think that Dilandau was drop-dead gorgeous under the moonlight, like he was now, but there was no need to illustrate that point literally.

For almost a minute there was no answer.

"Are you asleep?" she whispered close to his ear.

"No," came the reply, the simple word sounding much more coherent than anything she had said. "Don't you have better things to do at this hour than bother other people?"

"Sorry," Celena said, not sounding the least bit apologetic. "I just got back from town and I saw your horse out here. I'm dead tired, but I thought you might appreciate it if I made sure you still have a horse tomorrow," she explained.

There was a weed sticking up right where her ear was and she reached a hand up to pull it out. It was things like these that reassured her she would never get used to country life, and that Torushina was still home, after all that had happened. It was a comforting thought, and when she settled her head back down making sure that she made contact with Dilandau's shoulder, she decided that this was a comforting position too.

"It wouldn't dare," he said in a low tone and shifted a fraction of an inch away.

"Well, I'm glad I came over anyway. I haven't seen you or any of the others in a while."

"I'm sure you've seen Ryuon. I told him to stay around your workplace."

"Oh, yes... Ryuon," Celena confirmed.

There was something about the Dragon Slayer Captain's voice that spoke of dire consequences for his subordinate if she did anything less. Dilandau was in a strange mood.

"But he doesn't count, not really. He spends the day tucked in his little corner, not talking to anyone except at the beginning, and end, of the day," she went on, thinking of the mysterious purple-haired Slayer whose vocabulary seemed to consist of two words only: "what's" and "new".

"What about you? What have you, Gatti and Chesta been up to lately?" Celena turned to her side so she could admire the silver vision beside her. "I haven't seen you forever."

Dilandau must have heard the fabric of her clothes rustle, because he turned his head to gaze back at her.

"We've been doing our job," he said.

"Really? Care to elaborate?" The blonde let a hint of teasing scepticism seep into her tone.

"We've been exploring the terrain around town to see if we could find where your pest problem is hiding," he told her in a dragging voice. "Didn't find anything, though. Not even a pack of wild _mingus_ to keep it interesting."

"Oh," she replied, slightly disappointed at finding that he was just bored and moping about it like a little kid. "By the way, did Ryuon tell you that..."

"... There is a shipment coming in tomorrow," Dilandau finished for her. "Yeah, thank the Dragon god! Something to do at last!"

Celena's eyebrows furrowed at the exclamation and she stared at the man beside her curiously. She thought she had smelled _vino_ in his breath, but, since she knew for a fact that Gekki hated that stuff and never kept any of it around because of his daughters, she quickly dismissed it as her tired imagination.

The air was warm and the night inviting, and silence settled easily between the two. Before she knew it, Celena was giving in to long over-due sleep, her eyes closing of their own accord, and her head rolling to lie against Dilandau's shoulder. Her breathing was so deep that it disturbed the Dragon Slayer Captain's thin hairs.

For his part, Dilandau remained as if nothing had happened, continuing his observation of the stars and listening to the sounds of the wilderness around them.

He could feel lucidity slowly returning as his system purged itself of his earlier doings at the inn in town, and he hated the rolling feeling in his gut. He diverted his attention towards the gentle weight of the slumbering blonde beside him instead.

Allen Schezar's sister was sleeping peacefully against his shoulder. How ironical was that? Or worse: how ridiculous was it that he still did not know what he wanted to do about it?

He wanted to hit Schezar where it hurt, but not in this cowardly way. What he really wanted was to battle it out with the man, face to face. They had never gotten the chance to clash swords throughout their encounters and Dilandau had heard plenty of first hand reports on the Abaharaki leader's skill to pique his interest.

On the other hand, he was aching for some action. He was afraid he was forgetting what blood smelled like and how beautifully consistent it was. He was never one to spare much consideration for innocents, so what was keeping him from drawing his sword? Was it just her good looks?

Just then, Celena stirred in her sleep, creeping closer and trying to make a pillow of his torso. One of her blonde curls fell in front of her nose to tickle the Dragon Slayer's bare collarbone.

Dilandau's instinct was to just shrug the girl off him, but Celena was looking so peaceful and so unguarded at that moment that he refrained himself. He smirked at the funny faces she was making as the hairs tickled her as well.

He was suddenly feeling an irresistible urge to draw closer to the slumbering beauty and take in a deep breath of the scent that had caught his attention the day he had met her.

The women he had been used to from his days of working for Folken had always smelt of flowers or honey or fresh spring water or any sickening overly sweet combination of the three. Celena was not like that. Maybe it was simply due to the lack of luxuries in this forsaken town, but she smelled like a real person rather than like those porcelain dolls.

Celena smelled of the ink she had used during the day and of the earth from the fields she spent so long working. She smelled of horses and dust, and of the salt and vinegar that were used to conserve food at the shelters. And only beneath all that, like a treasure that was all the more precious for its elusiveness, could he smell the sweetness that was her true essence.

He savoured it for a moment, before clearing his head of the haze created by the intoxicating aroma and the vestiges of vino in his bloodstream.

Refusing to give it any more thought, Dilandau reached up to push the tendrils of platinum-blonde hair that had disturbed him aside and ended up brushing his fingers against her forehead.

He halted as he got a little electric shock from the contact, but he did not mind. She did not stir either.

His red gaze was then drawn to her smooth cheeks, freckled as a result of extended exposure to the sun, and the long lashes resting there so peacefully, hiding brave blue eyes from view.

"LORD DILANDAU!" The unexpected shout kept him from falling into the moment all over again.

Dilandau's head snapped up to respond to the call from his Dragon Slayer, and so did Celena's, who looked blearily at him, confused as to why he had moved. Coming from the house was Gatti, closely followed by Chesta. "There you are! We've been - OUCH! Flashes, Ches, what was that for?"

The blond seer had just realised what they had interrupted and cuffed his second-in-command over the head for his lack of sense.

"We apologise for the interruption, Lord Dilandau, but Ryuon has something that you need to see," Chesta calmly explained, looking serious, while Gatti sent some nervous glances Celena's way as he rubbed his head and tried to disguise that he was looking.

Dilandau caught on to the pair's expressions and realized that whatever Ryuon wanted was important, and probably not to be shared with any others outside their group.

Half-thankful, half-annoyed for the interruption, he rose and led his Dragon Slayers back to the house and towards their room. To Celena, he spared a simple "see you tomorrow."

Still mostly asleep, she didn't even register what had just happened until after a while, when she saw that Dilandau had kindly left his horse behind for her to take care of it.

She groaned as she grabbed its reins and trudged blindly to the stables, wishing the day would just end. Then she groaned again as she remembered bits and pieces of a dream she had been having. Not only had it been a great dream - she had been revisiting the woods behind her home, in the company of a certain someone that her brother would probably not approve of -, but she had also had it while resting against the shoulder of her would-be sweetheart.

Life could be so cruel.

**o**

Ryuon saw the doorknob to the room turn and his face split into a satisfied grin. He proudly stood at attention, chest puffed out at the thought of the praise he would undeniably receive from his leader on account of his achievements.

The door opened and Lord Dilandau entered. His eyes were narrowed and his red glare instantly zeroed in on the purple-haired Slayer before him. Ryuon gulped silently and his grin faltered.

'_Chesta must have woken him_,_'_ he thought. _'Flashes, I should have waited till morning!'_

"Are you going to tell me what was so important, or am I going to have to guess?" Dilandau menacingly ground out.

"Yes, Lord Dilandau. I mean - no, Lord Dilandau! I'll explain right away!" Ryuon sent an incriminating gaze Chesta's way that was received with a smile and an apologetic shrug.

'_Bloody Chesta, always playing innocent'_ - this was not a good time for setting him up, Ryuon heatedly thought. This was his chance to shine – '_unlike bloody seers, who all they have to do is slump in their seats and roll their eyes back to get the spotlight.'_

The purple-haired Slayer shuffled over to his bed under the criticising stare of his Captain and pulled back the frilly pink covers with embroidered flowers to reveal a mass of wires and metallic components spilling out from a torn machine. Facing his companions once again, he tried pulling himself back together into a semblance of confidence.

"Lord Dilandau, you remember that battered up audio receiver I found at the volunteer's workplace? Well, I finally got it to work," Ryuon said with a proud stance worthy of his aristocratic upbringing, despite the few dust motes that were clinging to his purple hair. "I was able to find a frequency with a broadcast from the temporary Abaharaki Government directed at the general populace and you definitely need to hear what it says, sir."

Dilandau's foul humour seemed to dissolve from one moment to the next. He looked almost concerned. "What are you waiting for, then? Turn on the damn thing!"

"The message is on a loop. The next one won't start for a few minutes," Ryuon explained as he fiddled with the wires and moved them carefully out of the way so he wouldn't break any connections while he sought the power switch.

When he found it, a blurb of a screech came from the disembowelled radio, before it settled on the more melodious tune currently being transmitted. The song was hard to make out, heavily mixed with static as it was, but once the Slayer had re-arranged the wires and the antenna it became clearer.

"What worries me, Lord Dilandau, is that if anyone else in town has a working radio, they'll also be able to hear this broadcast without any trouble," the former communications officer warned as they waited for the mystic folklore tune to end.

The Captain looked at him, understanding without it needing to be said that whatever was on the message his Slayer had intercepted was something that could prove troublesome for them.

The music finally died down and gave place to a tinny, nasally male voice.

"_The following is a notice from the Abaharaki Government. This is communication number twenty-three thousand seven hundred and forty one. This message will be repeated within twenty-four minutes."_

And so it was that the four remaining Dragon Slayers settled on the pink mattress and listened to all there was to know about fugitive high ranking members of the despised Black Dragon Clan who were still being sought by the new Government to stand trial for their war crimes.

Particularly, they learnt all about the criminal at the top of their most wanted list: a white-haired general with draconian blood who had piloted the armour that had destroyed half of Torushina, and whose troops were responsible for numerous ravaging assaults on many small countries.

The sentence waiting for them at Torushina should they ever be found was death.


	7. Horse Ride

**T O R U S H I N A  
A_ Vision of Escaflowne - A Girl In Gaea_ fanfiction**

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_**Notes:**  
It lives! My apologies if it's not very good. I'm a bit rusty on matters of _Escaflowne_, so please cheer for me__._

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**07: Horse Ride**

The Dragon Slayers were a nervous bunch the following day, around the time the caravan was supposed to arrive. Their five senses - or six, in Chesta's case - were tingling, taking in all there was to be gleaned about their surroundings. Not only were they looking out for any trouble that may arrive from out of town, but they were being extra careful to keep an eye on the townspeople who had congregated at the town square as well. After what they'd heard on the radio last night, their levels of paranoia were at an all-time high. They could not afford to be recognised.

Dilandau, however, looked as cool as could be as a drop of sweat trickled down the side of his face, tracing the delicate contours of his pale face. The sun that afternoon was being particularly unforgiving and the risk of sunburn was even higher since the Dragon Slayer Captain had been standing outdoors for a considerable amount of time now.

Too much time.

He looked across the street to where the group of volunteers had already set up their stands and were waiting, like him, for their wares to arrive. The buildings cast a shadow on that side of the street and they were only too happy to take cover against them, even where the walls looked most frail and broken down. Celena was also nearby, talking to one of the men. As she noticed his stare, though, she was quick to excuse herself and make her way over to join the Captain.

"I'm getting worried," were her first words. "They have never been this late to arrive before."

Dilandau did not reply at once, choosing instead to let his eyes roam over the crowd of impatient villagers gathered in the middle of the street. The weather was not helping to keep tempers in check and a lot of people were starting to harass the volunteer distributors, demanding to know where the provisions they had been waiting for the past week were.

"Do you think something could have happened to them along the way?" Celena wondered.

"It's possible," Dilandau said, weighing the likelihood of that happening. "Now that the Black Dragon is gone, there's no one to keep things in check. The roads are full of raiders who would like nothing better than to get their hands on something like your supplies."

"I thought you said you didn't find anyone suspicious during your searches of the outskirts," Celena asked, gestures animated with sudden preoccupation.

"Doesn't mean they aren't out there," he said, smirking as he met her clear blue eyes. He was somewhat confused when he saw her furrowed eyebrows instantly smoothen. After all, he was pretty certain that the peace-loving blonde before him would not approve of the kind of thoughts that were starting to form in his mind on how to deal with the raiders, and never before had anyone been calmed by making contact with his red-eyed stare. "My men and I will go out to take a look and try to find them."

"I'll go with you," she replied. "I know the route the caravan usually takes, so I can guide you."

Dilandau almost said no, but then stopped himself. Why would he tell her to stay put in the village when she could lead him all that much quicker to the site of a possible fight? If the sister of his most hated enemy wanted to place herself in the middle of danger, he really was not about to start worrying for her.

The Captain gave her a brief nod and looked around the street to the various places where his Dragon Slayers were positioned. He was displeased by how distracted they seemed, but did nothing more other than motion them over.

They were no longer in the Black Dragon Army and despite their choice to continue to follow him as their leader, it wasn't any of his business if they screwed up and got themselves killed. If a sudden conflict broke out and they weren't fast enough to react because they had let the heat get to them, whatever happened was entirely their responsibility.

Still, the moment Gatti, Chesta and Ryuon saw his gesture, their bored gazes sharpened and their backs straightened. Muscles coiled with a fresh supply of energy as they unconsciously fell back onto the state of receptive readiness that their military training had instilled into them and rushed over to their captain.

The group of five were quick to collect their horses from the stables and, soon enough, had left the gold and green fields of life-giving farms that circled the village to ride along a desert road. The sun was even more unforgiving here and the dark shapes of carnivorous birds flying up above were an ominous reminder of what happened to a person when they lost themselves in such an environment.

Celena took up a position in the middle of the group. Despite her earlier words, the blonde ended up doing very little in terms of guiding the Dragon Slayers. There was only one road in or out of town, which meant that there was only one path that the caravan could take.

Riding alongside her, Chesta suddenly gasped and Celena quickly looked over to him. He was staring at something that none of the others could see, his eyes focusing on some point beyond the horizon. He didn't say anything, but words were unnecessary. Even over the loud noise of hooves impacting on the packed dried earth, the rest of the party had heard him suck his breath in as clearly as she had, demonstrating a level of awareness of each other that she had never expected to find in a ragtag band of mercenaries.

She saw Dilandau pull his sword a little closer to him from where the brusque motions of his horse's gallop had shifted it and the ringing clicks of metal on metal coming from behind her let her know that Gatti and Ryuon were taking their weapons out from where they had been strapped and putting them somewhere within easier reach too.

The precision with which they had reacted to Chesta's warning and adapted was fascinating to Celena, whose only experiences with fighters involved her brother Allen's rowdy and undisciplined band of rebels. Loud orders had been a constant there, as nothing else would get those men moving; there had been no room for subtlety. What she was witnessing now was on a whole different level from the makeshift tactics and improvised nature of the Abaharaki. These Dragon Slayers were cool-headed and their methodical and ingrained practices hinted at a background of training on how to conduct themselves in this kind of situation and, most of all, experience - yet, they were all younger than anyone she had ever seen fighting alongside her brother.

The reason for Chesta's warning became apparent about a mile down the road, as a rising column of greyish smoke presented itself to all.

Instantly spurring his horse onwards, Dilandau broke off from the group and set out cross-country on a straight line in the direction of the smoke. Ryuon and Chesta were quick to follow his example and do the same, while Gatti approached Celena, taking up the position that the blond seer had vacated to caution her.

"That smoke is probably coming from your lost caravan. It must be under attack, so don't get too close. Keep out of sight until things settle down."

Celena nodded in response, not trusting her voice to be steady with the jolting motions of the beast carrying her, but Gatti wasn't looking her way any more. He was urging his horse to speed up to gallop and catch up with the rest of the Slayers, leaving the platinum-blonde girl behind to follow at her own pace.

Celena found that when out in the wilderness, distances could be very deceptive, especially when the landscape around her always looked the same: yellow and barren. The origin of the smoke was not as close as it had seemed at first and every time that she crested a rise in the terrain thinking that the conflict would be unfurling on the slope beyond it, a new hill interposed itself between her and her destination.

When she finally did arrive at the location, Celena followed Gatti's advice and slowed down before coming into sight of the confrontation. Dismounting, she carefully approached a ridge and found a safe spot to watch the fight below.

What she saw made her want to duck back down and throw up. It wasn't just the giant wagon that was on fire. The driver and some of his assistants had been caught inside it while trying to salvage the supplies. Part of its structure had collapsed and the flames were closing every gap they might have escaped through. The few who had been lucky enough to have been outside when the roofing had crashed were kneeling nearby, hands in head, unable to do anything but watch their companions' plight.

Celena froze up for a moment and in that brief time she felt as if her senses had tripled in accuracy. Her eyes could almost see through the wood planks into the inside of that inferno; her senses of smell and taste became sharp enough to distinguish all of the different materials being consumed by the flames: wood, spice, flesh and hair; and her hearing could suddenly pick apart every individual crackle of wood that brought about closer the definite collapse of the wagon.

Mentally shaking herself to do something, she hurried back to her horse and pulled on her water canteen until it came free. She did not let herself tumble down when it finally did - there was no time! - and threw herself on a mad dash towards the infernal caravan.

As she came closer, she realised that there were other sources of noise nearby. A quick glance beyond the fire was enough to make out the Dragon Slayers riding to and fro, circling some strangers who were on foot. She recognised the sounds of sword clashing on sword, but did not spare it more than a thought and continued instead to where the pair of oxen beasts that pulled the caravan were still tied up.

"Help!" she called out to the kneeling onlookers. "Help me move them!"

She got no response and decided to take up the task herself. She tried coaxing, slapping, pushing and scaring the giants animals into motion with shouts, but they seemed to be just as terrified as the unresponsive workers at first. When finally one of them took a hesitant step forward, then another, Celena laughed and cried in joy.

The transporter had been damaged enough that if the beasts pulled, the front might just break off, hopefully creating an opening the people trapped inside could use. However, the animals were not moving fast enough for Celena's liking. Every second that passed by was one more second they might not have, one more second without oxygen and surrounded by infernal temperatures, therefore she moved in front of the beasts and grabbed the reins to urge them to go faster. She felt her throat become sore and scratchy and realised she must have been shouting nonstop like the world was about to end ever since she had set to work.

Just as she made the conscious decision to quiet down, though, her over-sensitive ears picked up on someone else's shout: Chesta's.

"Miss Celena!"

She turned to see what was going on and was instantly blinded by the sun reflecting off of a long strip of silver.

Her left cheek exploded into searing pain and the next moment she was looking up into the twisted face of a bandit holding a blood-stained sword. Her brain had yet to grasp what a close call it had been for her that only her cheek, and not her neck, had been cut. All she could comprehend was that his arm had raised again, in preparation for a second strike that would not miss.

Paralysed by fear and shock as she was, the thought of running did not enter her mind. All she could think to do was hold a hand to her face to try to staunch the bleeding in the few moments she had left. The sword started its vicious descent, but it never had a chance to draw closer as the bandit suddenly flew off to the side, pushed away by some powerful, invisible force. The weapon fell down to harmlessly stab the ground beside her.

Taking a deep breath, Celena looked beyond the wavering weapon to see Dilandau atop his horse some meters away, arm outstretched in her direction. His white coat was spattered with blood that matched the colour of his blazing eyes, making him look like one of Jeture's vindictive angels descended from above: beautiful and deadly.

She realised that he had used his Draconian powers to save her again. She also noticed that the blood-lust in his eyes was unlike anything she had ever imagined possible.

The white-haired Captain led his horse closer to give her a once over. The sun shining behind him hit Celena's eyes as she looked up to him. It hid his features and for the first time since meeting him, she was grateful for that. He looked too intimidating, his intense red gaze too frightening when it rested on her wounded cheek. He didn't actually say anything to her, but she felt like she could hear his thoughts shift from concern about her well-being to making the man who had dared to touch her pay for it. His sword was thirsty.

"Miss Celena!" Chesta's voice erupted next to her. She started and looked over to him, feeling somewhat guilty for not actually noticing him sooner. "Are you all right?"

"Yes... my cheek... the caravan..." she tried to explain, but Chesta had already dismounted, way ahead of her.

"Don't worry about the supplies, miss Celena... you're wounded!"

With a gentle prod, the blond seer turned her wound towards him and removed her hand from it. The amount of blood made him frown, but it was a known fact that facial injuries always bled more than they should. He fetched a clean wad of gauze and some nasty-smelling salve from a pouch on the saddle of his horse. His fingers were surprisingly nimble, for he was able to put together a sturdy bandage in no time.

"The cut is deep and wide. You were very lucky, but we should go back to town to get proper treatment, miss Celena, or it will scar terribly," he said at last.

All around them, the chaos had dwindled down. The bandits were retreating under the Dragon Slayer's joint efforts and Ryuon had even managed to finish the job Celena had started and get everyone (and even a few supply containers) away from the flames.

"Then take her and go," Dilandau's voice was heard. His eyes were still smouldering and before any of them could say anything in reply, he was taking off in the same direction as the thieves. It was obvious he had only stayed long enough to hear Chesta's assessment.

The Dragon Slayer Captain had forgotten to mention the wagon and its occupants, but Gatti, Chesta and Ryuon shepherded them into their little travelling group just the same.

"Shouldn't one of us go with him?" Ryuon asked.

"I have a bad feeling..." the Seer said.

"That settles it then! I'm going!"

The purple-haired Slayer had already turned around, when Chesta spoke up again to stop him: "Wait! It's not about Dilandau. I just... have the feeling that something bad is waiting for us in town."

Gatti and Ryuon shared an uneasy look and started the long trek back to their temporary home, leaving the carcass of the broken down wagon to burn and the trail from Dilandau's horse to fade in the wind. Each of them could still hear a small tinny voice in their memories whispering "_death_", over and over again.


	8. Dance of Curse

**T O R U S H I N A  
A_ Vision of Escaflowne - A Girl In Gaea_ fanfiction**

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**_Notes:  
_**_It's so close to the end now... but I don't want it to be over... ;_;_

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**08: Dance of Curse**

Celena moaned in pain as she pressed herself into the back of the rider in front of her. The Dragon Slayers and her were heading back to town and had to ride double because there were not enough horses for everyone, what with the added merchants who had managed to survive the raiders' assault on their supply wagon. Not that she would have been able to ride by herself either way. She was in so much agony, she could not even bring herself to remember the name of the blond whose shirt she was ruining.

The left side of her face had thankfully stopped bleeding some time ago, but Celena's upper body was still sticky from the mess it had left behind. She was also feeling light-headed, both from the injury and the fear she was experiencing. There were no mirrors to check, but by the way her whole left side was burning, surely that thug had cut off a good chunk of her cheek and there was no way it would ever recover. She just knew that this kind of pain reached too deep to ever completely go away and, although she was not nearly as vain as her brother Allen, it was better to look nice enough that others would not be forced to forever keep their eyes slightly beyond her to escape looking at the ruined disgrace of her face.

The good she had done saving those merchants from a fiery death did not even factor into her thoughts, next to the mind-numbing pain. She wanted to let go and cry, but even that hurt too much at the moment, so she just pressed herself a little closer to the rider.

"Miss Celena? How are you feeling?" the blond - Chesta - asked, turning his head to look over his shoulder. All he could see were her curls, tainted red in places.

The gentle voice broke through Celena's misery. Suddenly, she could not contain an hysterical sob. She started to pull back to meet the Dragon Slayer's eyes, but that caused her cut cheek to throb even more, so she quickly discarded that idea and spoke into his back instead.

"Like I'll never feel anything else but pain ever again."

Chesta worried his lip. Something about the way she had said that had triggered his psychic powers. He had glimpsed only a flash of the future, more of an impression than an actual picture, but it let him know that she was not entirely wrong. He said nothing of it to the scared girl, of course, and decided to let her rest as best as she could.

Instead, he turned his attention to his friends riding beside him, each also carrying an extra passenger. The driver of the wagon sat behind Gatti, while Ryuon had been left with the two young boys whose job had been to load and unload the cargo. The dark-haired Slayer had placed them in front of him on the saddle to make sure they did not fall off, a decision he was no doubt regretting as he kept his eyes firmly on the road rather than on the little waif currently picking his nose and wiping his fingers on his beloved horse's neck. Behind them, riding Celena's horse, were the remaining two merchants who had been the first to escape the burning wagon and had thus been left mostly unharmed.

"How much further, Gatti?" Chesta asked. This deserted region looked all the same to him and his sense of distance was not as keen as his friend's.

"We're close. The horses are tiring but I think we can push them a little to reach Gekki's house. It's closer than town."

"Anything else on that danger you mentioned earlier, Ches?" Ryuon asked. The Seer appreciated his effort to keep from voicing any words like "sense" that would tie him to anything supernatural. They were in the company of strangers and not all were as accepting of his gift as his fellow Slayers, who had been living closely alongside it for years.

"No, I can't think of anything else, but it's still there."

All three pondered those words in silence for a moment. Whatever Chesta was sensing, they would find out one way or another, for better or worse. Gatti spoke up then, feeling it was his duty as second-in-command to try to take away some of the dread hanging over them.

"It will be fine. We'll stay at Gekki's and avoid town for a while. Then we'll figure out what to do."

"Excuse me, but..." the leader of the caravan group interrupted, "we have to go to town. The people there were expecting the supplies we brought with us."

"That won't be a problem," Gatti reassured him. "The place where we're going is only a short distance away. You'll be able to walk there. Besides, Celena there can explain everything that happened to your caravan to the townspeople."

All eyes turned to the young lady shivering behind Chesta once more.

"How is she?" Gatti asked the seer, half-hoping Celena would not hear so as to not disturb her.

His immediate answer was a negative shake of the head. Chesta then proceeded to add, "She's reminding me of Dalet."

Gatti and Ryuon sucked in a breath. It was not often that they thought back to their fellow Dragon Slayers, their fallen brothers - in fact, they often went out of their way to do so - and Dalet's death was an especially touchy subject. He had suffered a grievous injury at the hands of the Abaharaki that no one in all of the Black Dragon Empire had been able to fully heal. The pains had been permanent and strong enough that Dalet had decided that it was not worth living any more.

Ryuon was the first to shake off the grim memories. "Pff... don't be dramatic, Chesta. A couple of stitches and she'll be fine. She'll have a new story to tell that will be the envy of every adventure-longing, sheltered young lady from here to Freid."

His efforts to lighten the mood went unanswered as silence descended upon the party. They rode another hour before the fence that marked Gekki's property came into view, and with it a whole new cause for worry.

A large group of people had assembled at the front of the house, with Gekki and his family in the lead. The others could have been mere refugees, trying to find out what had happened to the supplies they so needed, but the coldness in their eyes and the way they fixed on the Dragon Slayers gave them pause.

They pulled the reigns on their horses to halt them as far away as possible without making it look like they were trying to keep their distance. The traders with them dismounted immediately, while Gatti and Ryuon helped their passengers to the ground. The welcomes were brief and subdued, as all eyes had yet to let go of the mercenaries.

Celena was still in too much shock to let go of Chesta or to realise the tenseness of the situation. The first to take action was Gekki, who took a cautious step forward.

"Are you they? The ones they're talking about?"

Months of being on the run instantly let the Dragon Slayers know the real meaning of the words, but they would not admit to anything without at least trying to keep their identity hidden for a little longer.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Gatti countered.

"Don't try to deny it! My wife heard it on the radio your friend fixed when she was cleaning the rooms!" Said wife stepped further back into the crowd at the mention of her name, like she feared retaliation. "The Dragon Slayers and the General Dilandau Albatou, Folken's draconian white-haired, red-eyed devil! That's who you are, isn't it?"

"No, it's not," Gatti denied. "We're just a group of homeless mercenaries, trying to..."

"Bollocks!" one of the townspeople shouted before he could finish. "It's you, all right! I've seen your leader!"

"You've caused more destruction and killed more innocents than even the cursed madman himself!" another one accused.

"An unfortunate coincidence, which, I'll admit, we have taken advantage of in the past."

"And look at that other one with the painted forehead!" someone else interrupted again. "It's just like the broadcast said! They've got a bloody devil with them!"

The shouts were multiplying and people were getting more and more agitated. The Dragon Slayers could no longer put in a word edgewise in their defence before someone started listing the names of dead or missing family members and cities that had been razed during the war. They subtly instructed their horses to step back and put some more distance between them and the angry mob, but they knew that theirs was a lost cause and that the only option they had left was to leave the place altogether.

Until a feeble voice put an end to the confusion.

"Stop..." It was Celena and she repeated the command with increasing intensity, as many times as it took for everyone to obey and listen to what she had to say. "I am Celena Schezar, sister of Allen Schezar, leader of the Abaharaki resistance! You all know who my brother is and what he has done for all of us and I hope that, throughout the time I've spent here, you have come to know me as well."

The Dragon Slayers exchanged a nervous look, unsure of where the blonde young woman was going by bringing Allen Schezar's name into this, but taking comfort in the fact that people had calmed down enough to listen rather than pull them from their horses and make a public example of what happened to criminals out of them.

"I find it insulting for you to even suggest that I have been sheltering criminals of war! They have been living in the same house as I for the past week and I have given them food and work. I can tell you that I've come to know them and they are no different than the rest of us - poor souls who have been left without a place in the world after the war ended!"

The Dragon Slayers were having a hard time keeping the shock from their faces, but it did not make a difference. Everyone was too busy taking in Celena's fervent little speech to notice.

"Celena, you don't know what you're saying... These people..." Gekki said.

"No! I am perfectly aware of what I am saying. I never made it a secret who I was, not to you and not to them, and twice now they have saved my life. If Chesta, Gatti, Ryuon and Dilandau truly were the monsters you claim them to be, why would they not simply leave the sister of their greatest enemy to die? If they say that they are not the ones you heard about on the radio, then I believe them," she stated, directing a fierce look at the Slayers.

For the first time, Ryuon was looking at her with something other than indifference. If Celena did not know any better, she might have even called it respect. Gatti was looking into her eyes, trying to discern her thoughts, but his gratefulness was obvious. Chesta, still sitting in front of her, could only turn halfway and bow his head.

Meanwhile, the crowd was confused. They did know who Celena was and their respect for her family and all the good they had done during and after the war was immense. There were still a few cries of "but his name is the same" and "how many red-eyed demons can there be in the world?" but they went unanswered. No one wanted to doubt Celena and if, she of all people, was vouching for these mercenaries...

Gekki was speechless. He had been living with the Dragon Slayers too and he knew better than most how disagreeable their leader could be. He did not know what to make of the fact that Celena was showing them such strong support. He had no doubt that she had every bit as much desire as everyone else in town to see the remains of the Black Dragon Army brought to justice, perhaps more than most, given what the poor girl's family had been through. Did she know something he did not? Could this really be a case of mistaken identity?

Before any of the onlookers could decide on a conclusion, Celena asked the three mercenaries to go on into the house. Her cheek was still hurting, she said. Finally realising the amount of blood she was covered in, the crowd parted easily enough to let the horses pass.

The Dragon Slayers still could not believe their luck when the front door of the house closed behind them and they followed Celena without question when she started up the stairs to the second floor. She turned to them once they had reached the corridor that led to the rooms, eerily quiet after the strength she had just displayed outside.

"Celena, we..." Chesta started to say, but she put a hand on his arm to stop him.

"You don't have to say anything. I saw the way you acted out there and I've spent enough time with my brother and his men to know that simple mercenaries don't have that kind of discipline."

She lowered her eyes, knowing that she had just defended the remnants of the Black Dragon Army in front of the most important people in town. She hated the empire as much as any of them but she could not help but sympathise with these young men whom she knew next to nothing about. There was no denying what she had just said, but, nevertheless, she hoped that they would do just that because she did not want to have to hate them. Instead, she noticed that all three wore the same type of boots.

"Blue..." she laughed sadly. Just like the standard Black Dragon Army uniform.

None of them understood what she was laughing about - or maybe she was crying - but Gatti decided that she deserved more than their silence. With a look of shame on his face, he said, "Thank you for what you did back there."

Celena nodded her acknowledgement. "You know you cannot stay."

"We'll stay until Lord Dilandau gets back and then we'll go. We don't want to cause any trouble."

Unable to bring herself to wish the Dragon Slayers good luck, Celena just gave them a second nod and then left, walking away and closing herself in her room.


End file.
